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 Loving Macey 
By Voirey Linger
(c) 2009 by Voirey Linger. This book may not be transfered or republished without the express written consent of the author.

Loving Macey is part of the 2010, Romance Divas E-Book Challenge. For more stories by Romance Divas authors, please visit http://www.romancedivas.com


Author's Note:
Loving Macey is one of those little stories I loved from he moment the idea came to mind. In it we take a look at one night that changes everything between two best friends. It was never intended to be more than a sweet little read, so I hope you excuse the lack of plot and just enjoy watching Jack and Macey as they discover their friendship is so much more than they realized.






Jack gritted his teeth and clutched the steering wheel as another round of excited squeals came from the back seat. Excited nine-year-old girls were a driving hazard he wished he could avoid, but today the drive would be worth the headache.

“Relax,” Macey soothed. “We'll be there soon and then we get a whole night off of parent duty.”

A night without kids. That sounded damn good.

“Mom, are we almost there?” Jessica called from the back seat.

“Almost, baby.”

Glancing in the rear view mirror, Jack hid his grin as the girls rolled their eyes. Just last week they had announced they were both too old to be called babies.

He stole a sideways glance at his friend. Her face was filled with love for her daughter. A quick peek in the rear view mirror at his own daughter brought a paternal ache to his heart, too. Before too long she would be a woman, ready to face the world without her daddy holding her hand. Their girls were growing up.

He shook off the maudlin thought and returned his attention to driving, looking for the Johnson's house. Everything looked the same to him. The whole neighborhood was brick fronted homes and snow-covered lawns.

The street made another inexplicable turn. Was he even getting close to the house? These subdivisions and their winding roads drove him nuts. They were stupid communities of matching houses on twisted streets. Didn't the planners understand the value of begin able to drive straight to and from a place? The scenic route had never held much appeal, and this trip was trying his patience.

“Are you sure we're going the right way?”

“I'm sure.” Her voice melted his irritation. Macey was always so cool and collected. He couldn't remember ever seeing her flustered.

That wasn't quite right. He could remember once.

Shortly after she had moved into the adjoining apartment, he'd heard a man shouting and a crash. Concerned, he'd rushed over and through her open front door. A man stood there with a fist raised and his face mottled red with rage. Macey cowered in a corner, trying to shield a whimpering baby Jessica behind her. Blood oozed from her split lip and bruises marred her pale flesh while she held off her ex with a knitting needle, pulled from the basket by her couch.

He hated the memory, but that moment gave him the best friend he'd ever had. Two newly single parents starting over, they provided each other with support, a sympathetic ear, and many times a shoulder to cry on. Through preschool and dance lessons, career changes and dating disasters, they grew together until he couldn't imagine being without her.

“Turn left here, onto Cherry Hill Lane.” Her voice brought him back to the present. Spotting a mailbox festooned in pink heart-shaped balloons, he turned into the driveway. Another scream came from the back seat and the call was answered by a swarm of girls running across his path.

“Good Lord, how many are there?” He stared in horror. At least a dozen kids were making snow men in the front yard.

“More than I could handle. I'm afraid ours are going want parties like this. We're going to have some fights on our hands when their birthdays get here.”

Once parked, the girls tumbled from the back seat like excited puppies and ran to meet their friends. A frazzled Mr. Johnson stood by the garage. He raised a shaky hand in greeting and Jack returned it as he stepped from the car. The party hadn't even started and the poor guy looked ready to run. Jack considered offering him a ride. Leaving him here had to violate some law of male brotherhood.

More girls emerged from the house to surround the host. Jack decided the bonds of brotherhood only extended so far and retreated to the back of car. Opening the trunk, he called the girls back and handed them the presents. Jessica held a package complete with a sparkling silver bow, wrapped by Macey's expert hand. Amy's gift was shoved into a pink bag topped with purple wads of paper.

He gave the girls' overnight bags and matching pink sleeping bags to Macey. Laughter twinkled in her brown eyes and told him she was letting him get away with avoiding the masses of 'tween girls, but she walked the girls to the house without comment.

Another round of ear-splitting squeals had him returning to the safety of the car to wait. When Macey stepped out of the house, he released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Thank God. Her door opened and he willed her to hurry so they could get out of there.

“You are a big chicken, Jack.” She buckled her seat belt and flashed him an amused grin.

“Yeah, I know.”

“You're not even going to try to defend yourself, are you?”

“Hell, no. There had to be twenty screaming little girls there. A real man knows when to take cover.” He backed out of the driveway, anxious to get away from the slumber party from hell.

“Twenty-four girls were there. They're expecting six more.” She gave a delicate shiver. “No way are our girls getting anything like that.”

Jack smiled and stole a sideways glance at her. The winter sun shone through her brown hair turning it into a shimmering cloud. She always complained about her curly hair, claiming it was too frizzy to look good, but he liked it when it puffed out around her head. It looked soft, like her, and when it picked up the light it was filled with golden sparkles.

“So, what are we doing tonight?” He slowly found his way out of the subdivision, picking his way through the jumble of streets. "I don't think I remember what grown-ups are supposed to do when their daughters aren't underfoot."

“Have you forgotten? You were in charge of movie rental, and you promised something with no explosions for me.”

“I didn't forget, and I kept that promise. One action adventure for me and one mushy drama for you.” He pointed to the bag on the floor and she picked it up to peek inside. The movie he'd chosen for himself was one he liked to watch and had seen many times but was too violent to watch with Amy around. Getting to see it was a treat.

The other was a romantic comedy Macey had been wanting to see. It was a new release and in high demand for Valentine's Day. He had to try three rental places before he found it, but seeing her eyes light up made it worth the extra effort.

“I'll call for pizza from the house, but we need some wine.” She dropped the movies back into the bag and indicated a row of shops nearby. “There's a store right over there.”

The wine shop outclassed their regular store. Hell, it outclassed him, period. “We don't need wine, you know. I'm fine with beer or soda,” he said as he opened the car door for her.

“I know but I don't get it often. I'd like to have a glass while the girls are gone. Besides, what's Valentine's Day without wine?”

“February fourteenth?”

The inside of the shop was even nicer than the outside. It spoke of money and refinement, and far outclassed the stores closer to their homes. The hardwood racks on matching floors cradled a large selection of wine and he had no idea where to start looking. How much did this kind of class cost? He'd heard someone say if you had to ask the price you couldn't afford it, and this looked like a place where prices were not discussed.

"Do you know what you want?" Maybe they could make this a quick stop.

"I have an idea. Something red." Or maybe they could shop for a while. Macey slowly wandered through the racks and he followed, hands in his pockets, feeling useless.

Music played in the background at a discrete volume, an arrangement of the song their daughters had performed at their last dance recital. Macey apparently recognized the tune, too. She began to dance, her feet shuffling in a clumsy rhythm and awkwardly following the steps they'd spent so many hours helping the girls practice. The corner of his mouth twitched upward and he bit back a chuckle. Macey was no dancer. Moving through the store, she looked through the selection, seemingly unaware of the movement of her feet.

He walked up behind her and leaned close to her ear. “Step, step, shuffle, turn.” Holding her shoulders, he guided her through the steps, turning her to the choreography of a children's chorus line. With a laugh, she relaxed and let him move her.

“They were beautiful, weren't they?” Their feet stilled and the song came to a close.

“They were the most beautiful girls on the stage.” He gave her a hug and placed a quick kiss on her head. “You were our hero that night, you know.”

“Why?” She turned, twisting to look at him. “I didn't do anything.”

“Yes you did. I couldn't get Amy's costume right and you fixed it. She told me daddies weren't any good for making girls pretty.”

His throat thickened, threatening to choke him, and he buried his face in her hair. That night had been so important to his daughter but his clumsy hands couldn't curl her hair into ringlets or get her bows tied just right.

Little girls needed their moms.

“Oh, Jack.” Her hand came up and stroked his head. She twisted to face him. “Don't let it get to you. You are the best daddy a little girl could ever want and she's lucky to have you.”

He ducked his chin at the praise. He didn't deserve it. He fed his kid off of paper plates, dressed her like a tomboy and didn't know a damn thing about little girls, even after nine years of raising one.

Macey's hand brushed over his jaw. Cupping it she stood on tiptoe and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“She's lucky to have you,” she repeated.

He hugged her, and tried to hold on to her and her reassurances just a little longer before he released her and stepped back.

“Let's get the wine and get out of here.” He was not having a damn breakdown in the middle of some snooty wine store. Her hand brushed over his head once more and she turned back to the racks. It only took her moments to find a bottle of red and take it to the counter.

Jack wandered toward the door to wait, giving himself a bit of separation and time to get his emotions under control.

“So, are we going to have this grown-up movie watching experience at my place or yours?” He opened the shop door for her and followed her to the parking lot.

“Let's go to mine. I have wineglasses.”

“Wineglasses? Are you slamming my complete set of NFL beer steins? See if I ever let you use my John Elway again. It's a collector's item, you know.” Opening the car door he watched her slide into the seat.

She smiled and rolled her eyes, tipping her head back against the rest. He loved seeing her smile, loved making her smile. She was too serious sometimes.

“Do you have any plans for tomorrow?” she asked as he got in.

He shrugged. “I want to change the oil in the cars. I'd like to get yours done before you leave to pick up the girls. I need to check your brakes, too.”

“I'm not leaving until noon, so you have plenty of time.”

The rest of the drive was spent in a comfortable silence, not speaking again until they arrived at the duplex they shared. He parked in his driveway and they walked across the snowy lawn to her front door. Using his key, he opened it and held it for her then took her coat and hung it on a hook by the door along with his.

There was no discussion as he took the movies to the living room and she went to the kitchen. Their movements were natural, unplanned and easy. He was as home in her place as he was in his own.

“The pizza is on it's way. We'll watch your car chase and explosions first.” She came out of the kitchen with the wine bottle and two glasses. “Then we can relax with my mushy movie.”

“Sounds good.” He put the disc in the machine while she poured the wine. Glasses in hand, they sat with her curled up by his side to watch the movie. She rose briefly when the pizza arrived, retrieving plates from the kitchen and serving the food before returning to her place next to him.

She kept him civilized. At his house, it would have been beer from a can and eating slices straight from the box. Without a gentler feminine influence, he'd revert to his sloppy male ways, but she kept him in line. What would his daughter be like without Macey in her life? She was good for both of them.

By the time he put in the second movie, the sun had set and the pizza was gone. An unaccustomed silence fell over the house. The only sounds were the television and an occasional car driving down the road. She cuddled into his side and he curled an arm around her shoulder. They always sat like this to watch movies, but he hadn't noticed the intimacy of the position until tonight, when the absence of children brought awareness. She didn't feel like his best friend. She felt like a woman.

His brow wrinkled with an unformed question and he turned to study her. The wine had softened her, eased the hint of tension that had surrounded her for too long. Being a single parent was as hard for her as it was for him. She had always seemed to take things in stride, made parenting look effortless. He'd envied her ability to handle anything that came her way, but now he could see past her facade and he knew they were still struggling together, just like when they met.

He loved her, had loved her for a long time. The knowledge dawned slowly, the barest blush of the idea touching the corners of his mind and grew until he couldn't think of anything else. It was at once a stunning epiphany and a gradually revealed understanding.

He was in love with Macey, the woman who was already the other half of him. He didn't know why he'd never seen it before. When had friendship and caring become love?

Her lips parted on a silent gasp and her eyes widened as she watched the screen. A quick glance back to the movie lifted his brows in surprise. The actors were entangled in a passionate embrace. Clever use of shadows gave erotic hints of skin, hiding more than they revealed. The suggestive scene, combined with the woman against his side, sent a wave of arousal through him.

He turned back to her and froze. A pink tongue flicked out, wetting her full lips and her hand slipped up her chest to her throat in an unconscious caress. Arousal became want and he stirred, his body hardening. God, she was beautiful, completely relaxed and turned on by what she was watching. He'd never thought of her sexually, but now his heart quickened and he couldn't look away. His mind filled with tangled sheets, pleasured gasps and heated moans.

And Macey.

He blinked confusion, then everything in him whispered yes.

They made perfect sense together. A father and a mother, a friend and companion. A man and a women.

He captured her hand, tracing his thumb over it in a gentle caress. She turned and looked him in the eye, jolting him to an even higher level of awareness of her as a woman. Her questioning expression quickly gave way to recognition. Dark eyes dilated and her mouth dropped open in a silent O of stunned intrigue, as if she had stumbled upon the same realization and, like him, wasn't sure where it would lead.

“Jack?” she whispered shakily.

In answer, he leaned over and let his lips touch hers in a cautious first kiss. She held herself motionless and his mouth brushed hers once, twice before he pulled back. Her wine-scented breath fell heavily on his face while they stared into each other's eyes.

“What if this is a mistake?” she asked in a voice so small he barely heard it.

That gave him pause, scared him. Macey was too important, too precious for him to risk losing her for a moment of pleasure. But no moment with Macey could be meaningless. She made him so much more than he could ever be on his own.

“What if this is what we've been working toward from the first?” he countered in a voice as low as hers.

“I don't want to lose you.”

His other hand came up and cupped her head, gently smoothing her brown curls away from her face. “I want to keep you.”

Jack kissed her again. This was more than the careful testing of the first kiss, more than a cautious whisper of contact. He placed his mouth fully against her and tasted. Her flavor was at once familiar and new, sweet wine and sweeter Macey. Lapping at her, he gently coaxed until her tongue moved against his in a tentative slide of heat and want. Arousal hit hard, a greedy punch in his gut which demanded he lay her down and bury himself deep inside her soft body.

With a hum of satisfaction he gathered her to him and allowed himself to become lost in the twin sensations of hunger and need.

Her hand began to move, kneading his muscles and sending a flush of heat through him. He gave a rumble of encouragement, willing her to keep going, to touch, to explore. his lips skimmed down, over the curve of her throat, savoring the frantic pulse there.

Her hand outlined the curve of his shoulder, then dipped down to brush his abdomen. The teasing strokes made him tense before moving away and her lips returned to his.

He held her close while he kissed her, his tongue alternately flicking hers and dipping to taste her. He basked in her heat. his touch wandered from shoulder to waist and back again.

With an impatient noise, she nipped at him, catching his lower lip between her teeth before diving back in for another kiss. With a growl of desire, he fisted one hand in her hair to hold her to him, their tongues meeting with new urgency. He shifted, sliding down into a partial recline, and with a rough tug, set her on top of him.

The heat of her met his hard flesh and she stiffened. Pushing at him, she scooted off of him and moved back. She sat close enough to touch, but the distance between them felt immeasurable.

Shit. Jack's heart clenched at the rejection and a dull ache grew in his chest, squeezing at him. He sucked in a deep lungful of air and sagged against the cushions of the couch. They stared at each other while the sounds of Hollywood sex and their own breathing filled the room. The expression on her face was distant, unreadable and his heart broke.

She studied him, assessing, until the silence between them reached the shattering point. She swallowed visibly, stood and walked to the stairs. “Jack?” She glanced back over her shoulder, not meeting his eyes. “Turn off the TV and lock the door before you come upstairs.”

Waves of shock rippled over him, making the hairs on his arms stand on end and the air whooshed out of his lungs.

Macey said yes.

Jack's brain scrambled to catch up and he lunged to his feet.

He was spending the night with Macey.

Moving mechanically, he began to prepare her home for the night as he would his own. With the push of a button, the DVD player spit out the disc and Jack stared at for a long moment, his thoughts still centered on the couch and the scorching kiss they had just shared, on the bed upstairs and what would happen there tonight.

He jerked into motion. The movie was quickly placed in its case and he flicked off the television before walking across the room to lock the door. With one last look around the room, he flicked off the lights, and followed her.

At the top of the stairs, he paused again. He'd been up here many times, but always with the girls, helping Amy find whatever toy had been left behind, or giving her one last kiss before he left her to sleep over with Jessica.

Always as a father, never as a man.

Never in the bedroom on the right.

Wiping damp palms on his jeans, he willed himself to move down the hall and step through that doorway. Her private space was steeped in her subtle fragrance; cinnamon and powder and the unique scent of woman. his stomach quivered with anticipation.

The lights were off and the silver glow of the moon shone in the window. She sat on the edge of the bed, twisting her hands nervously. “What are we doing, Jack?”

“We're taking the next step.” his own nerves evaporated, burned away by the sight of her, sitting there, waiting for him.

“But what if--” Walking to the bed, he quieted her with a finger placed across her lips.

“I love you, Macey. There is nothing that will ever change that. I'll never stop loving you because you're a part of me.”

He let his finger rub over her soft lips in a gentle caress before bending down to kiss her again. It was slow and comfortable. Had kissing ever been so right, so easy before tonight?

Jack straightened. Macey didn't trust easily, and he didn't want to do anything to violate that trust. He would be the man she deserved, and he wouldn't give her a reason to shy away from him, from a future together.

The nightstand beside her bore a clock, a book and a few personal items-- Macey's side of the bed. He walked around to the other nightstand and purposefully emptied his pockets, silently claiming the space for himself. his eyes never left her as he toed off his shoes and lay down, fully dressed, atop the comforter.

Turning her head, she watched him over her shoulder. Her tongue flicked out over her kiss-swollen lips and the wet trail glimmered in the dim light.

“Come here, Macey,” he coaxed. She started to move, then hesitated, uncertainty in her eyes. “We don't have to do anything but lie here, it's your choice, but I want to hold you tonight.” It would kill him, just holding her. But he'd spend the night doing just that if it was what she wanted. He held his arms open to her, praying she wouldn't back down now.

The room was blanketed in silence and she studied him. Time stretched between them. Then came the quiet thud of one shoe, then another hitting the floor. She turned and stretched out beside him, curling into him. his arms closed and he held her, soaking in the moment, the familiarity of her body tucked against against him.

He'd held her before. When they were both still going through the process of divorce, she quietly cried out her and pain in his arms. She'd held him through his tears when, a week after his divorce was final, the police informed him Amy's mother had died of an overdose. Over the years, there had been hugs of friendship, support and encouragement.

Those hugs never felt like this, like a prelude.

Jack brushed his lips against her hair. “Do you feel it?”

She nodded slowly. “There's more,” she whispered against him.

More.

There was no other word to describe it. Everything was just like it had always been, but there was more awaiting them.

Her hand moved, exploring him through his t-shirt. A sigh of pleasure left him. She traced lazy circles over the planes of his body, warming him by slow degrees. Her fingertips grazed one of his nipples and he twitched, a shock of unexpected pleasure racing through him. She paused, running one fingertip around the little point, and gave it a deliberate flick before moving on. Her hand slid downward and traced the ridges of his stomach, making him tremble before coasting upward again, running along his shoulder, cupping and kneading the muscles.

He stiffened. Dammit, he didn't have a condom.

“What's the matter?” Macey asked pulling back slightly.

He held her tight against him, refusing to let her put distance between them. “I wasn't planning... I didn't...” He blew out a harsh breath. “I don't think I even own a box of condoms right now.” He choked out a harsh, mirthless laugh. It had been at least two years since he'd been with a woman, and knew she had given up dating more than a year before him. The chances of either of them having protection available was slim.

“It's okay.” Her hand slid over him again. “I had my tubes tied after Jessica. I didn't want to risk --” she broke off, unwilling to give a name to the specter haunting her.

Long minutes stretched between them before she spoke again, her voice small and hurt. “Having a baby wasn't part of Doug's plan and he was very angry at me for being pregnant.”

Jack went still at the mention of her ex. He'd learned to listen to what Macey didn't say when Doug was mentioned. If she said Doug was angry, then he was probably violent. She would not have allowed another child, another victim, to be born, even if she wasn't yet ready to admit the danger her husband presented to her.

His fists curled in impotent anger. How could a man take his anger out on a woman? How could a woman choose to live with him knowing he'd hurt her?

“Why did you stay?”

“Because I was stupid and weak.” Her answer was quick and bitter.

He hugged her tighter to him. “No, you aren't stupid, sweetheart, and you are the smartest and strongest person I know. You humble me.” If only she could see herself the way he saw her. It took courage and strength to make a new life, to care for a child and never let her down.

“Jack, what made you leave?"

He clenched his teeth against the pain of the memory. “I came home from work and found Amy alone in her crib. She wasn't even crawling yet and Rita left her alone so she could go out and chase a high.” He swallowed against the lump lodged in his throat. “I never should have left her with the baby.”

“Did you know how bad she was?”

“No. I knew she had a problem before we met but I thought it was part of her past. I didn't understand that addiction is never over. The prescriptions the doctor gave her were disappearing too fast but I didn't pay enough attention and Amy paid the price.”

“I guess we both didn't want to see what was really there.”

She was right. Admitting everything had gone to hell meant admitting he failed. Sometimes the illusion of happiness was all a person had to hold onto.

Jack forced himself to relax.“I don't want to talk about them tonight.”

He caressed her, teasing along her back to the curve of her waist and dipping under the edge of heavy denim. He kept the strokes light, giving her time to accept his touch.

Her hands moved over his skin, sparking an electric sizzle of awareness. She pushed up his t-shirt and began exploring the bare skin of his stomach. As her hands found flesh, his did too, straying to the soft woman underneath her shirt. his finger lightly followed the waistband of her jeans, drifting along the edge from back to belly to back again. She shivered against him.

With fingers spread wide, she skimmed her hand upward, in one firm, maddening stroke. She explored the light dusting of hair on his chest, and caressed the planes of muscle there. A groan of pleasure escaped him and his breathing grew ragged.

He pushed up her shirt to glide one hand over her skin. his other hand drifted up her side to tip her chin up and allow him to take her mouth again. It was a kiss of hot welcome, of sweet invitation. his tongue slid between her lips and stroked. She returned the kiss with a demand of her own, one which left him shuddering in need.

Her hand curved around his waist and tugged at him. Shifting his weight to his elbows, he leaned over her, and took the kiss deeper. She moaned into his mouth and wrapped her arms around him, her short nails biting into his back. The tiny nips of pain drove him higher, fed his desire.

She fisted a handful of his shirt, dragged it upward, and his patience evaporated. Jack knelt, straddled her legs and reached back for a handful of fabric. With a hard tug, he yanked the shirt over his head and tossed it away. Macey licked her lips. She looked hungry, like a woman wanting, and it made his cock twitch.

She gripped the hem of her shirt and tugged at it. It was twisted around her, tangling, binding her. Cupping his hands along her sides, he held her lightly, caressing curve of her waist, and she stilled, panting. With a smile of satisfaction, he freed her shirt. Dragging it over her head, he sent it to join his.

The moonlight didn't reveal the color of her bra, but it allowed the dark outline to stand out against her pearly skin. With one finger, he explored that line, learned the details of her shape, her feel. Tracing the band from one side to the other he made her shiver.

He drew his wandering finger over her collarbone, dipping into the darked hollow there before emerging into the light to outline her shoulder. She squirmed and arched under him, begging for more contact. Keeping his touch light, he followed the edge of the fabric over the swell of her breast and dipped into the warm darkness of the valley between.

“Don't tease, Jack.” Her hands gripped at his thighs. “Please, touch me.”

“Touch you where?” He eased the straps over her shoulders.

“My breasts. Please touch my breasts.” Her voice was thin, an edge of begging colored it.

“Like this?” He hooked a finger over the edge of one cup and pulled it down, exposing her for the first time. his finger grazed her nipple.

“More, I need more,” she sighed, and he smiled.

He stretched over her and let his body press hers into the mattress. Her hands eased up to glide across his head. Macey loved the feel of his close-cropped hair, always noticed when he'd gotten a haircut. She would rub her hands over it, petting him like a puppy until he shivered. Now, he ducked down and ran his head over her bared chest until she was the one shivering. He teased her sensitive flesh until she stretched, luxurious as a cat, and gave a throaty purr of pleasure.

He nestled his face in the warm furrow between her breasts, his forehead pressed under the pulsing hollow of her throat. The essence of her soaked into him, bringing with it heat and longing. Tipping his head, he placed gentle kisses on one soft swell, then the other. He nipped at her, rasped his tongue over her skin and tasted her.

Her hands slid to his back and urged him on, silently repeating her demand for more.

His mouth caught her exposed nipple. He sucked the firm flesh, flicked his tongue over it and her fingers curled and dug into him.

With a groan he reached up and gave the other half of her bra a rough jerk downward, not caring if it tore. He caught her breast in a wide-mouthed kiss, sucking in as much of her flesh as he could. She gasped and arched under him, rubbing against him, pressing herself into his mouth.

Jack couldn't wait to feel her skin against his any longer. He was hard as a rock and throbbing. A harsh noise escaped, one he barely recognized as coming from him. Rising to stand at the foot of the bed, he jerked his fly open and skimmed off the rest of his clothes. He couldn't take his eyes from her as she laid bathed in moonlight.

Beautiful. She was absolutely beautiful.

She lifted her hips to slide her jeans off. He grasped her hem and gave them a hard tug, scooting her toward him as he stripped them from her. Cupping her foot, he removed one sock, and placed a kiss on her arch before repeating the action with her other foot. Then he dropped back onto the bed and straddled her legs.

One side of her dark panties had been tugged by her jeans, and he pressed an open mouthed kiss in the shadowed hollow of her hip. He could smell the wet heat of her. He licked along the elastic, feeling the edge of her silky hair under his tongue and placed small nibbles along her tender flesh. Curling his fingers over the sides of the panties, he slowly eased them down her legs.

“Jack?” Her voice trembled and Macey pressed her knees together, blocking him out.

“Let me taste,” he whispered against her. He placed a hot kiss atop the soft hair. “Give me a taste, Macey. You can trust me, sweetheart. You've trusted me with everything else, now trust me with this.”

Slowly, she relaxed and her thighs parted. Hooking her knees, he spread her, exposed her, and settled between her legs. He eased down, nibbling along the top of her thigh to her knee and back to where she was hot and ready for him.

The skin of her inner thighs was satiny, tender, and perfumed with her musk. He nuzzled her there, rubbing his whisker-roughened cheeks against the delicate skin. Her hand came down and cupped his head, holding him to her as he placed a kiss on her outer lips, one side and then the other. The night hid her, keeping her cloaked in mystery. H

He opened her with his thumbs and gave her a lingering lick. His first taste of her. A groan of pure pleasure escaped him at the essence of Macey. Rich and creamy, it coated his tongue with the salty flavor of sex.

“Jack!” She jerked under him. “Oh my God, Jack.”

His name on her lips, called out in surprised passion, fired his need and he licked at her again, pushing his tongue deeper. He lapped at her and the hand holding his head stroked, rubbing that fine layer of fuzz she loved so much, teaching him how sensitive a man's head could be. Her nails scraped his scalp, sending a ripple of electricity through every nerve of his body.

He eased his tongue up and flicked it over her clit. Her thighs twitched and tightened around his head, and with a quick shift of a thumb, he left the sensitive bead of flesh naked, completely vulnerable to him. A lick, a flick and a suckle had her digging her heels into the bed, pushing herself against his mouth.

He thrust a finger into her wet heat. A second finger joined the first and he licked again, his tongue rasping over her hard clit. He gripped her hips and held her still while he suckled, thrusting his tongue deep and feasting on her.

Once she was thrashing and calling his name, he shifted, eased up her body, visiting every part of her along the way. He found every spot that made her squirm and sigh, explored every inch shadowed by the night and pearled by the moon.

“More,” she begged as he nibbled his way over her shoulder and explored the hollow behind her ear. “Please, Jack, I need more.”

“More where, sweetheart?” he whispered into her hair. How could he not have known how soft her hair was, how good it smelled, how good it felt? Nine years and he never knew. “Tell me.” He kissed the spot where her shoulder curved into her neck. “Show me.” his lips skimmed over her, down to her arm. “What do you need?” He nibbled along the upper swell of her breast.

“Let me touch you.”

Her words sent a shudder of need rippling through him.

“Not yet.” Wrapping his arms around her, he rolled them. She pushed herself upright. The air rushed out of him with a pained hiss as her wet heat slid over him.

She felt so damn good. This felt so damn right.

Unhooking her bra, he bared her breasts. He cupped them, lifted, shaped and explored her gently. Nicely shaped and the perfect size, she had the soft breasts of a mature woman and mother. They suited her, suited him.

Jack eased his thumbs toward their centers and grazed the hardened tips, reveling in her hushed exultation and how she moved against him. She arched into his hands with small sounds of enjoyment. The movements pressed her hot sex even tighter against him, made her glide over him and he bit back a groan.

He took one dark nipple and gave it a careful pinch, rolled it between his fingers, and felt her hot flesh clench against his cock. He cupped her breasts, coaxing more noises from her and she began to rock, moving over him in a slow rhythm.

“Oh God, Macey.” Hot flesh slid over him and the sweet friction made his toes curl into the comforter. With every shift of her hips, he was wrapped in wet heat, driving him slowly crazy. Need raged, a hint of pain which echoed the frantic beat of his heart. Jack gripped her thighs in an attempt to hold her still. “Don't make me come, sweetheart. Not yet. Take it easy and don't make me come.”

His jaw clenched as she leaned forward and began to explore him the same way he had explored her. Supple skin smoothed over him as she scooted down his body, tasting here, nibbling there. Precome dripped from him, filling his navel and her tongue dipped into the puddle. Her eyes drifted closed and she moaned at her first taste of him. Her carnal response made his cock twitch.

“More sweetheart. Taste me,” Jack growled. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he held it back from her face so he could watch her. Watch the beautiful sight of her face in the stark moonlight and her lips stretch around him. One hand cupped his balls and another wrapped around him, lifting him to her mouth. She eased back, until she just held the head in her mouth. She traced the ridge with her tongue. Then she opened her mouth and took him in deep in one smooth motion. He jerked, spasmed, and he fisted his hand in her hair.

Her tongue rasped over the sweet spot under the head and he drove upward, blindly thrusting into her mouth. “Oh, hell, sweetheart, that's so good.” He caught an assured glint in her eye a moment before she sank over him, letting his cock brush the back of her throat. Holding him there, she gave a lusty purr. It rippled through him, raising the fine hairs on his arms. Then she pulled him back with hot, wet suction.

“Don't make me come. Please don't let me--” He gritted his teeth against the sensation of her velvet tongue stroking over him again. The heat of her mouth sent waves of pleasure through him and his body tightened. It was all he could do to remember to breathe as his control wavered.

“Shit!” his fingers twitched in her hair and he tugged her head away. “I need inside you.” Curling his hands around her ribcage, he urged her back up before rolling over her to take her mouth in a rough kiss. Her tongue was slick with his precome. He could taste them mingled together into a unique and perfect flavor.

He thrust into her heat in one smooth stroke. They both stilled, breathing hard, their lips barely touching. He didn't want to move, to risk losing this first welcome.

Through the haze of pleasure, Jack felt the world shift.

He was home.

The urge to move was strong, but he resisted. He wanted to be right here, right now, as long as possible.

Macey trembled around him and he twitched, jerking inside her. He couldn't hold still any longer. Bracing himself, he drove forward, sinking as deep as he could.

He paused there again, savoring the feel of her, luscious and thick. So damn good. She moved against him urging him on but he held there until he couldn't hold still. Then he set a rhythm, let flesh slide over flesh, heat over heat.

Her low moan echoed through him. “So right, Jack. It's so right.”

Right? It was more than right. It was perfect.

He eased in, another slow slide and another exaltation. Her feet slid up his legs and over his butt. Clasping his ribs with her legs, she used her whole body to hold him.

Cupping one breast, he lifted it to him and tasted. She was smooth and sweet. Her heels dug into his back as he bit at her. A nip and a tug had her arching, gripping his head. He sucked hard. Mewling whimpers escaped her and she clenched around him. The sensation sent an answering tremor through him. He bit again, harder this time, and she gasped and held him to her.

Her nipple popped free from his mouth. He let more weight rest on her and thrust in harder, satisfaction spearing though him when she arched and cried out.

“Macey. You feel so good, so damn good.”

With panting whimpers, she held him, and he let go. Driving into her, hard and fast, he gave a guttural groan and she tightened around him. He dipped his head and nuzzled the side of her neck, nibbling gently and laving the spot with his tongue. One of her hands drifted over spine to cup his head, encouraging him.

He kissed over her shoulder and down to her breast, teeth, lips and tongue teasing along the way. He lightly brushed his chin, roughened with a day's growth of whiskers, over her hard nipple, reveling in her mewling cry of pleasure, then he took her in his mouth and sucked. Using teeth and tongue, he made her thrash and moan.

Switching breasts, he continued the sensuous torment. Her hand clenched into a fist and hard knuckles dug into the back of his neck. Close, she was close. Her sheath gripped him, trembled around his cock. He wanted to see her, to watch her come for him.

Her body tensed, arched under him and she cried out as she came. She was beautiful, exquisite. Her mouth fell open on a gasp and she shuddered under him, pleasure washing through her in visible waves. The sensation was incredible. He wanted to see that, feel that again, forever.

He sped up, and she cried out again, her hand fisting the bedding as one orgasm blended into another. Prickles erupted over his skin, and he bore down, thrusting into her hard and fast, until his balls began to tingle, to tighten, then bliss rolled over him, forcing a raw shout of satisfaction.

He rested his forehead on her shoulder and sagged against her, fighting to keep from crushing her as he twitched with the last dregs of pleasure. She stroked him, her hand rubbing from waist to the middle of his back in a relaxing movement. It took him a long time to gather the strength to move, to roll to his side, and pull her limp body to him. She laid her head on his chest, easily finding her place as post-orgasm lethargy seeped through him.

Fingernails gently scraping through the hair on his chest, stopping his slow slide into slumber. They swirled, following the line downward to where it stopped a bit above his navel, then rose again to his chest.

“Macey, you're going to get yourself in trouble if you keep that up,” he warned without opening his eyes.

“What kind of trouble?” Her voice was husky.

"The kind that has you flat on your back and me buried in you up to my balls again."

"That's kind of what I was hoping."

He opened his eyes to searching her face. "No regrets?"

"None. You were right. This is what we've been working toward for years."

"It's right. The change is right."

"No," she corrected, "it's not a change. We have what we've always had. It grew."

Her mouth skimmed over his shoulder, working her way toward his neck with little kisses and nibbles.

"The girls are going to be over the moon, you know. They can be sisters at last."

Macey stiffened and pulled back to look at him. "Sisters?"

"Yes, sisters." He met eyes and willed her to believe him. "I love you, Macey. I always knew it, even before I realized it was more than just friendship."

She stretched up and placed a hard kiss on his mouth. "I love you, too, Jack, and I never expected us to find this." She kissed him again, whispering against his lips, "But I'm glad we did."

Pulling away, he reached over and flipped on the bedside lamp.

“Jack!” Her hands flew up to cover her breasts.

“Shh. I want to see.”

He tugged her hands away and lazily explored her, tenderly squeezing her breasts, smoothing over her soft belly and tracing the delicate spider web of scars under her navel. Marks of motherhood. He scooted down to kiss them, to tease his tongue over the silvery marks and pay homage to every one.

"Come back up here." Red faced, she avoided his eyes. Modest little Macey was embarrassed to be exposed in the light. She'd figure out she had so reason to hide soon enough. He moved back up reluctantly, nuzzling her and reveling in the scent of sex and arousal.

Settling over her he caught her mouth again. She matched every thrust and stroke of his tongue with one of her own, lapping at him with delicate strokes; sometimes giving, sometimes taking.

Always sharing.

"Ah, sweetheart," he whispered into her ear. "Why didn't we do this years ago?"

"Because we weren't ready."

"Weren't ready or didn't see it?"

"Does it matter?"

It didn't. Theirs was a winding path. They had meandered through friendship and moved on to love without either of them realizing it. But the journey had been perfect, because they had made every step of it together. Maybe the direct route wasn't always best.

He pressed a smile against the side of her neck. “I'm ready now.”

“I'm ready, too."






Loving Macey is part of the 2010, Romance Divas E-Book Challenge. For more stories by Romance Divas authors, please visit http://www.romancedivas.com

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